


The True State of Perfection

by Azeran



Series: AU-ThorxJotun!Loki [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Jotun!Loki, M/M, Sex is perfection, Thorki - Freeform, Thunderfrost - Freeform, and a hopeless boar according to Loki, he really is a hopeless romantic, so is Loki according to Thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 05:34:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1676591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azeran/pseuds/Azeran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“My thoughts are of you, and the satisfaction our bodies will give each other. What more need I desire?” Still kneeling on the polished floor, firelight cascading over his forearms from the many candles scattered about the room, the thunder god rubbed his palms down the back of Loki’s thighs, rasping silk over skin, the taste of gold in his mouth as he peppered more kisses over Loki’s stomach and hips. “I want to pleasure you, Loki. I need only a chance to prove it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The True State of Perfection

**Author's Note:**

> I adore these two. Frostiron may be my main drug of choice, but I can't held but adore Thorki/Thunderfrost. Especially when it's an arranged marriage deal. Hnghh.....
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, the MCU, or Thor and Loki. Duh.

The exquisiteness of him was one surpassing all others throughout the Nine, more glorious and bewitching to the eyes than the fairest maiden, or the greatest battle. Truly, Loki was a creature unlike any other. And he was his. Bound in ceremony only hours before, their wrists tied with silken cord, he was Thor’s bride now. Nay, his consort. His partner, he who would join Thor on the throne, guiding him with a cleverness and wisdom that he could never possess. Such skills came inherently to Loki. He, with his secrecy and shadows, and the power of magic at his fingertips, a strength Thor had come to cherish and see as equal to his own hammer and force. Aye. Loki was a beauty, in all shapes and forms. That he could look upon him freely was the truest of blessings. 

To know wasn’t enough. He wanted to show how lovely Loki was. That graceful body, with its curves and azure colored skin, bloodlines making striking patterns across his brow and cheeks, down his arms and thighs. Thor would worship it, as Loki deserved. Urges called to him, birthing the fiercest of desire, hot and potent in his veins. To part those thighs, and taste the sweetness of their cleft. He longed to wrap raven tresses around his fists and arch Loki’s neck for the softest of bites, every inch of him left exposed to the thunderer so he could pay tribute. 

“Loki….” Thor rumbled a heated welcome and beckoned to the diminutive Jotun now, fingers curling in the air. “Come.” 

Dressed still in the finery of his wedding garb. Loki slowly passed through the doorway leading to the chamber they would now share and looked around. There was much in the jewel red of his eyes, but curiosity couldn’t disguise the raw glimmers of trepidation slashed through their surface. Of course, it made perfect sense. He may not be necessarily pure of mind, but his body was untouched, save for the smallest of intimacies they two had shared. Nothing had ever surpassed kisses that were soft as feathers, and the most fleeting of touches with their hands. It wasn’t for a lack of want; Loki’s desire was palpable each time Thor kissed him. But tonight they would share a marriage bed. Hardly an act to take lightly. 

Gazing past him to the bed draped in silks and furs, he stared intently at a prominent one of snowy white, the rare pelt of an alpha wolf Thor had hunted and carefully skinned for this very occasion. It was an Aesir tradition. On the morrow, the fur would be collected as proof of their coupling, though Thor secretly hoped most of his seed might remain slicking the folds of Loki’s cunt, rather than dripping across the soft skin. “I see this is one tradition being insisted upon,” Loki brushed a strand of hair over his shoulder, threaded heavily with gold and glinting emeralds. Thor was captivated by the act, watching blue fingers slide through the weighty mass, though his words gave him pause. “Are we not meant to have an audience, rapt with attention as they watch us couple?”

“Aye. We were. I sent them away.” He didn’t miss the look of relief, nor Loki’s disgust. Naturally such a thing was uncomfortable for him. From what Loki had taught him of the Jotnar mating rituals, they were untamed and primal, but meant only to be experienced between the two mating. None other took part. It was a far cry different from Asgardian ways, which demanded an audience be present to watch the coupling for the first time. It was sound logic, meant to ensure the purity of a bride, and the sanctity of what heirs were created from the union. For them, it was unnecessary, and Thor refused to do anything that might make Loki uncomfortable. Not when he’d made so many concessions already. The decoration of his robes and golden jewelry were testament to that. “Fear not, Loki. None will be here tonight but you and I. This, I swear.” Thor reached out and took the hand reluctantly offered, pulling the trickster into his arms. “I’ll be the only one to watch you scream and writhe beneath me.”

“Scream?” Loki arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “You think too highly of yourself, Odinson, as always. Whatever makes you think I would scream for you?” 

He expected the teasing, and the defensiveness. Loki lashed out when faced with things he didn’t understand, as was his way. It didn’t dissuade him. “I know you, Loki, and what you crave. And I will learn the secrets of your body just as well.” Thor grinned, placing a strong hand on one of Loki’s shoulders to push back his cloak with its trim of grey fur and gold thread. “That is how I know you’ll do these things.”

“You’re a fool. An arrogant, presumptuous fool.” But there was no heat behind the insult. Grinning, he bent to kiss the swirling lines patterning glacial flesh, savoring the unusual texture with his tongue’s tip while Loki shuddered and arched in his arms. He craved the destruction of Loki’s mask, the chilling barrier of trickery and quips he placed between himself and all others to keep them away. Only Thor had ever had the pleasure of seeing him look really happy. It was a sight worthy of the title perfection. What he wanted now was to tear down the walls Loki had erected between them and make the prince scream his name for all of Asgard to hear. 

“Even the cruelest of barbs are made beautiful when you speak them with your silvered tongue.” Thor cupped his face and passed his thumb over thin lips. They parted enough to dampen his skin with hot breath, scented with the remnants of fruit and wine spiced with honey. Growling so low that it seemed but a faint rumble in the air, he painted a wet line up Loki’s cheek and stole a kiss, mouthing his words with passion and eagerness. “What more is that tongue capable of, I wonder….” with its ability to curl and slither like a snake, coiling against the flat of his teeth and stroking the roof of his mouth. Thor gently bit the muscle, Loki’s pained hiss swallowed hungrily. “I’ve waited far too long for this night. Will you share it with me, Loki? Only us two, as it was meant to be. Can you not imagine it?” His hand slipped between their bodies, hot as a brand of iron as he trailed a possessive path down the flatness of Loki’s belly to the belt of jewels and golden chain, and the skirt flowing in silken wefts to the floor. Another concession, though its slits made the sheath of fabric resemble the Jotnar fashion of loincloths far more than any Aesir garb. Thor found it sinful. He caught glimpses of muscled thighs each time Loki so much as breathed, and he itched to remove the cloth from him and stroke the fine petals it shielded. “Loki….” 

“Spare me your simpering, Thor. I know what you desire.” In a ripple of green and lush fur Loki dropped his mantle to the floor. He was naked from the waist up, but for the thin necklace of gold dangling between his collarbones in a shimmering half circle. There was an impressive peridot at its center; Thor covered the stone with his palm and nosed the side of Loki’s neck, touching his waist reverently. “Did you really send them away? I know the Allfather was meant to preside over our coupling, with the Queen and council.”

They were, and it had taken much effort on Thor’s part to see both kept from the room. “Aye. Mother happily agreed to give us our space. There’s no concern for your chastity. If any children come from our union, they’d be mine. And yours,” Thor added with a smile, placing both hands on Loki’s waist to pull him closer as he crouched on the floor to kiss the bared flesh of his navel. Loki tangled long fingers in his hair, toying with the ceremonial braids threaded throughout its tawny mass. 

“Children are the last thing on my mind, you insufferable oaf.” 

“And mine.” When they were both ready, he’d look forward to the children that would grace their long lives together, after watching Loki’s belly swell and strain with the weight of new life. Thor was too selfish though. He didn’t want to share Loki, at least for now. “My thoughts are of you, and the satisfaction our bodies will give each other. What more need I desire?” Still kneeling on the polished floor, firelight cascading over his forearms from the many candles scattered about the room, the thunder god rubbed his palms down the back of Loki’s thighs, rasping silk over skin, the taste of gold in his mouth as he peppered more kisses over Loki’s stomach and hips. “I want to pleasure you, Loki. I need only a chance to prove it.” 

Unsettling in his silence, Loki watched him kiss and lave affection upon his flesh. Thor sensed his thoughts whirling, a mad kaleidoscope that he wasn’t sure he could ever decipher. Damn if he didn’t want to try though. “You want me to give you opportunity?” Loki laced his fingers even deeper into Thor’s hair and drew the thunderer up for a light kiss, though he went reluctantly. He felt no shame for being on his knees before the prince, not when the opportunities it presented were gloriously purposed. 

“Aye. We both know this marriage will be consummated,” turning Loki’s face back when he attempted to look away, the thunderer kissed the sharp line of his jaw, brushing his nose up to the arch of his hairline. “The question is, will you grant me the chance to make it pleasurable for you? Or do you want it to be over with quickly? Your wishes will be accommodated, Loki. I swear to it. I only want you to be happy.” As well as a desperate need to make him cry in ecstasy, but the choice was Loki’s. Thor wanted nothing more than to tear away the silk and gold and push him back upon the bed, exploring every available inch of skin. Even the soles of his feet wouldn’t lack for touch. But in this, Loki was king. He was not so arrogant to assume that the prince owed him anything. Their fulfillment would be mutual, or not at all. He could easily make the consummation a simple rut, though that’s not what he wanted. Thor desired much more. “Loki..?”

It was with a quickened heartbeat that the Jotun freed himself from Thor’s arms, palms rasping his wedding tunic sleeves and gilded armor. “You expect me to give answer, when I’ve naught but a few kisses and wayward touches to judge by. How do I know your offer to be worth such charity on my part?” Thor held his tongue, keeping the protests to himself; he sensed Loki had more to say, and how right he was. Loki’s smirk gave it away. “Give me a taste of what you offer, Odinson. Then I’ll judge whether or not you deserve more.” 

Thor grinned slowly, capturing Loki anew and guiding him backwards towards the overly dressed bed with its arching headboard of wood and gold, and the furs, heavy yet soft against their palms. “As you will it.” Cool flesh became his feast, his beard tickling Loki’s neck as he kissed down the swan like arch. A taste, as he’d desired. It was a roundabout way for Loki to say that he wanted what Thor had to offer, but was warily avoiding commitment till he knew for certain it was worth it. If not, Thor knew he’d demand things be over with swiftly. But he had no intentions of letting that happen. He’d give Loki every drop of pleasure, stroking and guiding his body with all the finesse he could muster, and then Thor would await his decision. He planned on it being a good one. 

He persuaded Loki to lie down on the furs and sheets with a guiding hand carefully placed at the swell of his hip, veiled under gauzy emerald silk and chain, tiny stones glimmering in their dainty links. “Allow me to attend you,” Thor purred, working the clasps on his skirt to part material and bare the tops of Loki’s thighs. He wouldn’t take it off completely, but just enough to get a glimpse of what was to come. After all, he’d promised himself to cherish Loki all over, even to the tips of his black nails. There wouldn’t be a part left he hadn’t worshipped. 

Shifting around on the bed, making himself more comfortable on a mound of pillows, Loki watched Thor part his legs and settle between them with a scruffy kiss to his knee. “You said attend, yet you kneel between my legs like a slave…” 

“Hush, Loki. You’ll enjoy this.” Thor nudged them ever wider. With the long loincloth shielding him from sight, he could only see a few glimpses of Loki’s legs, and the lines running down nimble calves and ankles. He was going to kiss every one of them. “Lift your leg a little,” encouraging the arch of his foot against his shoulder, thumb stroking the black nails decorating the tips of his toes, Thor kissed its top and lifted the skirt aside to dribble a slow, crawling string of kisses up the lovely flesh. This way he could taste the prince with his natural musk, the lash of frigid winter in every breath. It was more decadent than any perfume, but better, for it belonged to Loki. And Loki was more beautiful to him than the moon and stars. 

“The way you behave, I might as well have given you all the treasures of the realms.” Loki watched him move, curious with the shadows of need coiling thickly in his scarlet gaze. They writhed and flickered with each shift of Thor’s lips higher up his skin, and the thunderer clutched him closer, trapping a pale thigh against his cheek. 

“Treasure cannot compare to the gifts you offer me. You can’t imagine how long I’ve wanted this, Loki. Even the sight of you is pure perfection.” He laid on the praise like a thick layer of honey, or clotted cream, tasting the side of Loki’s knee with his teeth, pressing down ever so slightly. Not enough to break the skin, but enough to scrape and stimulate the raised lines running higher up his leg, which Thor traced to the very apex of his thighs. Loosened silk hid him still, and he grinned at the sharp intake of breath from the trickster when he nosed the material and golden chains dripping downwards, catching one between his lips to tug. “You requested a taste from me, as proof of what I can offer. But the taste will be mine, beloved, and I would have you mewling in heated bliss till the very end. Then, and only then, will my task be done.” 

Heady promises. Thor had every intention of keeping them, no matter the difficulty. He adored a good challenge, and when the intentions were to drive the prince to screaming ecstasy, he liked it all the more. There was nothing grander in his eyes than the possibility of watching Loki come undone beneath him, a chorus of blissful whimpers and husky cries soaring through the air. Growling quietly, Thor tugged hard on the chain in his mouth. Its links broke, jewels falling free to scatter the bedclothes and furs as he removed the gold and pried the silks free from Loki’s form, tossing them without a care to the floor. Loki followed their descent, and a clear tremble ran across his skin. 

“And what if this wasn’t what I had in mind?” 

“Then I beg your indulgence, and pray you’ll forgive the misunderstanding. But my intentions remain thus.” Staring down at the sprawled body beneath his own, Thor dipped his fingers into the cleft of Loki’s thighs and stroked the flesh he found there, admiring the unique combination of masculine and feminine. He’d heard the rumors as a child; the Jotnar were intersexed, with nothing to distinguish between men and women but their own opinion. Loki, despite his small stature, fell quite in line with these traits, possessing the organs of both sexes. Asgard would have him play the woman’s role for this, but Thor knew better. Loki had shown him the fire housed in his heart, in his soul. Thor had tasted the bitter sting of his blade, felt the lash of his seidr when he spoke too callous a word. Nay. He was no simpering maiden, in need of a strong male arm to act as her shield. Loki was fierce, vicious, sly, and carried a wisdom Thor could never hope to match. They were two sides of a coin, and whatever his people thought, he was going to show the prince how much he was cherished. He would start here, and worship both parts of Loki for what they were. His. 

With this thought at hand and his palms mapping out the frozen plains and harsh lines that were his to have, the god didn’t hesitate to bury his head between Loki’s thighs, tasting the dew that wept from his sex and pearled down the pliable petals, staining the cool underside of his flushed cock. Its purple tip was really no different from his own, save the different color, and Thor had seen many a man’s prick before. The sight was nothing new. None had ever coaxed him to touch before Loki though. It gave him pause, as he wondered how best to please him. Would Loki better enjoy being kissed, or stroked? He nudged a fingertip against the wet tip, frowning to himself. Of course, the pause was poorly used to plant seeds of mistrust in the Jotun’s thoughts Thor saw them rage war on Loki’s face, twisting his mouth into a smile of discordance. “It’s different now, is it not? And all your charming words are laid to waste. I can all but hear your thoughts, Odinson. They balk from the sight of me as I really am.” 

“Do not look blindly upon my uncertainty to justify your own distrusting nature, Loki. My hesitation was out of wonder, not disgust.” He caught Loki’s limbs when he attempted to balk away, pinning him down and placating the squirming Jotun with a kiss to his navel. “Never before have I touched a man’s flesh. I only wanted to be certain of what I had planned before I set to the task. Your body has very few differences from my own, when I look past the markings and cold skin. But you could still experience things in a way I do not.” Nipping the natural curve of his hipbone, Thor sucked a faint bruise into the skin and determinedly grasped Loki’s cock as it hitched towards his belly, slickness coating his knuckles. He was aroused. A greater relief than the prince would ever willingly admit. Had Loki experienced things differently than an Aesir, Thor wasn’t sure he could’ve done this without asking him for aid. That was one discussion he hoped to eternally avoid. “I’m glad to see this isn’t the case…” 

Keening under his ministrations, Loki arched off the furs and splayed his legs wider apart. “What were you expecting? You’ve heard the tales of my people, like every other Aesir. You knew what my body was capable of.”

“I trust what can be seen, Loki, not what I hear. And what I see is your body flushed with arousal, eager for my touch.” Slowly, so as not to alarm the trickster, Thor gently began pumping the flesh in hand, milking opaque beads from its tip. It earned him a roil of Loki’s pelvis, which he allowed. His other hand was busy fondling the Jotun’s sternum, wandering across pectorals to squeeze and occasionally pinch a stiffened nipple. Loki gasped, words dissolving into a frantic keen.

The rasp of it caught his attention first, then a sweet scent of musk wafting off the Jotun’s form. It came from the blood enriched flesh resting fragrantly near his hand, and Thor longed to plunge his digits inside, learn well the passage that would soon sheath his cock in liquid heat, were Loki warm there as a woman would be. A curiosity he planned to explore avidly. Just not yet. Loki’s cock was near full attention, twitching and firm to the touch as he pumped it faster, harder, blue eyes never leaving the unfurling mess that was becoming his loudly moaning consort. An oddly fitting scenario for the mighty thunder god. 

“Thor…..” Loki ’s eyes began to glaze over, hips gyrating as he stabbed his nails into Thor’s forearm. “If you intend to make me suffer, then you’re going about it perfectly…” 

“My intentions aren’t to make you suffer, Loki. You know this. I’m only doing what you asked of me.” From which he took an odd sort of pleasurable amusement. Loki wasn’t the only one who could be tricky. His tricks were born in mischief though, whereas Thor only wanted to grant untold delight, in which case he had a marvelous head start. One more clench of his hand seemed ready to make the Jotun fall apart, howling his bliss for the entirety of the palace, if not Asgard to hear. He was tempted to give Loki what he wanted. 

Tempted, yes. But he didn’t. Not when there was so much more to be had, and he had only begun to treat the princeling as he deserved. Difficult though it was, Thor ignored the complaints and mewling and took his hand away from Loki’s cock, admiring the slickness coating his fingers. “You’ll have your completion, Loki, but not just yet.” He slid more personably between Loki’s legs, rasping his nose against the thatch of downy black curls from which his prick jutted, and protected the folds beneath. It was those he had his attentions on now. There was much satisfaction to be had from their downy sweetness. 

Loki only grasped his intentions when Thor was parting the petals of his quim, and by then it was too late for anything to be done. Whether or not this was what he’d had in mind, it was happening. Thor was raring to have every inch of that cobalt flesh tingling and electrified. Perhaps literally, if he could coax Loki into such a state of mind numbing bliss he wouldn’t realize what the thunder god was up to. Slim chances, but he was more than happy to risk it. 

Trembling as Thor’s whiskers touched his skin, Loki hissed. “You think this won’t make me suffer?” 

“Nay.” Thor thumbed open his folds and licked a warm stripe up their center, listening to Loki’s rich cries. “I think this will make you scream.” And scream he did, all sorts of things that had the hairs on Thor’s arms standing at attention. His cock was no less ignored, thickening between his legs with each plunge of his tongue into the musky sweet sheath that was the Jotun’s cunt. Surprisingly warm, it was, tasting of winter and honey. The scent alone was enough to tighten his loins, but to have that sweetness on his lips…Thor growled, burying himself completely into the act of pleasuring Loki, until all he knew was the moisture staining his tongue and dripping steadily down the curve of his jaw, lips pressed tightly against the folds of him and kissing, nuzzling, his thumb and forefinger thrusting into the slickness to entice more and more of that perfect flavor forth. 

“Thor….” desperation seethed on Loki’s lips, warning coils of green whiffing around his slender fingers. Thor had no fear of his seidr, and paid it little mind, tongue drawing circles across the delicate outer skin before happily plunging back into wet heat, joined by his roaming fingers that thrust and milked Loki’s quivering passage. “Thor! Stop…you’re…ahh--” he recognized the sound of a rising climax for what it was. Contrary to the gasped wishes, he kept with his antics and pumped his fingers harder, lapping at the fluid they carried. There was one thing yet he desired though. Experimentation. Timing things just right, gaze fixated upon Loki’s flushed face as he bucked into the heady ministrations working his flesh, Thor waited, watched, then allowed a small jolt of electricity to pass through his fingertips and strike the spongy wall he knew to be found within the nestle of damp skin. 

Loki screamed. Well and truly screamed, a gush of dewed salt staining Thor’s mouth and chin. He traced his tongue in nimble whorls to catch every drop, drawing Loki’s ecstasy to the harshest brink of gratification. Even still, his climax made a mess of Thor’s beard. Chuckling, he lifted his head and licked his lips clean, dabbing at the rest with a boorish hand while the cries tapered off to a ragged series of whimpers and choked groans, dark lashes fluttering over cloudy viridian orbs. “Satisfaction suits you well, Loki. I would see more of this expression on your lovely face. Did you enjoy my little trick?” 

“Be….silent, you o-overgrown boar. You knew that was not what I wanted.” The weak snarl was no more intimidating than a kitten protecting its dinner. Thor thought it adorable, and he smoothed a few stray hairs off Loki’s brow with his clean hand, brushing the base of an ebony horn. 

“You mean, this wasn’t your plan. But it was mine from the very beginning, and I’d say it turned out well enough. Did you not enjoy yourself?” He rose up on his forearms and hovered over the panting prince with a smile and gruff laugh, holding Loki’s jaw in a steadying grip. “I was certainly pleased….you taste divine, Loki. Better than the finest ale. I could partake in your flavor all night long.” 

“Not a chance,” Loki nipped at his fingers, reproachful and flustered. He saw the purple hue to his cheeks. “If you spend all night between my thighs, then you’ll never get your cock inside me. That’s what you really want, isn’t it?” A partial gleam cut through the dazed look in Loki’s eyes, aware and honed with a new craving for the very thing Thor had to offer. What they both apparently wanted, and he was more than happy to give. Once he had verbal permission. He wouldn’t let his dear silvertongue spin this into something negative, when Thor could see how aroused he was. It was a true relief when he got exactly what he desired, blue hands yanking him close and flushing their pelvises together, cold lips touching the outermost shell of his ear. “It would be cruel of me to deny you now….” 

That it would. He wasn’t known for his generosity though. Thor waited, a growl on his tongue, and was rewarded swiftly with a husky string of Loki’s native language, translating into the All-speak perfectly. “You only endear yourself to me more when you talk like that.” Kissing the filthy words into silence, he shed his armor and trousers, cloak cast away, and then worked a hand between their bodies, folding open the petals hiding Loki from view. Another night he would give attention to the puckered ring beneath them, but for now this would have to suffice. Thor needed the wet bliss of his cunt, and he planned to have it, now. “Tell me if it hurts,” he warned, slicking his cock with its own fluid and gently rutting the tip against the warmth. Midgardians believed their wenches were meant to bleed, which all Aesir knew to be fallacy. That no more changed the fact that he was well endowed, and could harm the smaller Jotun if he weren’t careful. This was for pleasure. Not pain. Were Loki to declare his dissatisfaction, he would stop immediately. 

Thor groaned, gathering the cool body into his arms and carefully sinking into its inner sheath, already liquid and pulsating around him. Norns, he prayed Loki enjoyed himself. “By the Nine…” it took a few moments of shifting before he found a position that was comfortable for them both, with his weight not entirely sprawled on the gasping Jotun. The intimacy of their joining was enough to make him roar, though he kept his vocal approval to grunts and strained sounding groans--ah, no. Those belonged to Loki. 

“Thor…” 

Nails sank deep into his shoulder blade, tearing four lines down towards the small of his back. Thor felt their sting, reared into it with a sharper thrust of his pelvis. “That’s it Loki….let go. Let me see you.” His praises were rewarded by Loki continuing to keen his name and claw at him as if he were a scratching post, plastering his frigid palm against broken skin. It eased the sting, but the cold made him snarl and bite at the elegant neck with its strained tendons and bloodlines, and he sucked a dark bruise into the blue, knowing it would be gone in no time at all. The Jotnar had healing abilities on par with those of the Aesir, if not better. And Loki had seidr. Any wounds he sustained, he could easily heal in a matter of seconds. Although, Thor did hope he would leave the marks be. They were fetching. 

“Loki……” weaving long hair around his fingers, he yanked the prince’s head up, kissing between dark brows and across a perfect eyelid, coaxing it open. He wanted to see those brilliant crimson irises, for they’d fallen shut as Loki hissed through his teeth and rocked his hips ever closer, driving Thor’s cock almost painfully deep into his clenching sheath. Yet his eyes remained closed. Stubborn, and one of many traits that so endeared him. Thor couldn’t ask for a more appealing consort. “Defiant.” He forced himself to still, teasing Loki’s clit with the edge of his thumb, stroking up and down in direct defiance of his body’s own desire to resume the slap of flesh on flesh, bruising with the ferocity of their coupling. “Open your eyes.” Thor kissed below his ear, hearing the Jotun’s labored breathing and anxious, low pitched moan of displeasure, sharpening into a cry as his fingertips quivered, pressing into his quim alongside the thunderer’s own thick girth. The sensations were nearly too much; he wanted his release, right then and there. “Loki…”

“Not yet…” the hiss tickled his chin, scoured by familiar pointed fangs. Thor knew what it was Loki asked of him, and while his patience was strained, he held on, gripping the frayed edges tightly and working kisses into cold skin. This was about Loki. If he wanted him to wait, hold on until the prince was ready for his own release, then he’d do it. No questions asked, no arguments. There was only a harsh trembling from the thunder god as he caught a slight ankle and worked blue limbs wider apart, spearing the folds between with a guttural cry shared, twisted beyond recognition in the slighter figure with every pump of Thor’s digits, nails lightly scraping his silky inner flesh before seeking freedom and raking warm flesh up his cock, dark purple and leaking copious amounts of fluid. “So close,” Loki arched towards him and rasped his name, blindly grabbing for him. “Thor--” 

“I’m here.” Thor placed a seeking hand against his cheek and held it there, erection throbbing, the tip hesitating on the newest plunge and instead rasping tender outer lips. Loki’s sobs made it all worth it. Only a bit more and he would shatter. They both would. “Look at me, Loki.” Waiting, watching, he rewarded fluttering lashes with a painstakingly careful push of his prick back into the Jotun’s cunt. The warmth and sheer wanting was enough to make his heart ache. “Beloved, please. Open your eyes and look at me. I need to see you before we both-” Thor growled, finishing his plead with a kiss. “Loki…” 

He had but seconds before his climax crashed down and engulfed every fiber of his being, and it was made flawless by the lethargic rise of Loki’s lashes to bare the stunning crimson jewels beneath, now fogged and tainted with an affection Thor had rarely seen there before, and treasured every time it appeared. This was perfection. This is what he needed. Thor shouted and rammed himself deep into Loki’s body, spurts of creamy white greedily milked up by his soaked walls. He carried Loki through his second release of the night, watching through sweat soaked hair as the younger male tensed up and screamed. No feeble attempts to muffle himself. No biting, or whimpering. Loki well and truly screamed his climax again, the gush of essence around Thor’s cock like a calming, warm bath. 

“That’s it…look at you. You’re beautiful, Loki.” And he was. There wasn’t another in all the realms who could compare to the lovely man Thor half held in his arms, their hips flush and breath mingling, deep scarlet blearily staring into stormy blue. He only hoped Loki believed him. It mattered not to Thor that he was Jotnar, nor that he possessed horns and fangs, or the organs of both sexes. Loki was beautiful, in every way. He also appeared exhausted, his slack mouth forming a tired smirk that didn’t diminish the contented shadows misting his vision, lashes beginning to droop once more. “You’re weary,” great care was taken to see he didn’t cause the princeling any unnecessary discomfort when he unsheathed his softened cock, drops of seed still clinging to his head. Thor kissed his brow, looking around. Tradition was to have soothing balms and oils waiting nearby, if the coupling had been overzealous, and a bowl of water and a cloth with which to clean themselves. But he didn’t--

“Incompetent….” Loki’s drained mutter was subdued. He’d rolled half onto his side, mouth and nose hidden by the fluff of a feathered pillow. “The servants were likely too busy ogling their mighty prince to attend their duties. Fools…” something soft was held out to Thor, and he caught the glimpse of a glass vial between Loki’s fingers. “Here. Prove that your skills aren’t purely secluded to the bedroom.” 

Thor took the items with a gracious smile, chuckling. “Then you admit. I have talent.” Popping the cork off the bottle Loki had given him, he dipped his fingers into the golden tinted oil inside and smeared it around, warming the viscous fluid before he set to applying it to the Jotun’s flesh. “It seems my talents were even more than you imagined they could be, if your sated body is anything to judge by. I hope I didn’t tire you out too greatly.” He was looking forward to another round, once they’d both had a chance to recuperate. Thor had little doubt Loki would take the longer to recover. He was only just keeping his eyes open, and appeared ready to fall into unconsciousness. His waspish retort was exhausted sounding as well, and indistinguishable from a moan. “Loki, sleep. Allow your body the chance to settle.” Thor ran a hand down his hipbone and thigh, admiring the feeble half glare on his consort’s face, already relaxing to a placid mask of rest. “I’ll take care of you while you rest. You’ll wake without a single ache in your lovely body. You have my word.”

“And you’ve proven your word so well.” Shifting onto his back anew, Loki closed his eyes. “Very well. But be gentle. Your brutish fingers have stretched me enough this evening.” 

“As you wish.” His answer was but a lilted sigh, vanishing within the throes of sleep that overtook Loki with ease. He’d really fallen unconscious. How could he not find such things precious, when they belonged to him, and him alone? “Sleep well, Loki.” Thor kissed his cheek and gently parted the sleeping man’s thighs, laying the rag to the side as he set out to do as promised, guiding his oiled digits across skin. Having this opportunity was more important to him than anything, and he referred to more than the intimacy of their lovemaking, and Loki’s willingness to give over the reins of his personal care. It was everything that had happened between them that Thor cherished. He’d give up a lifetime of sex, if only to spend eternity watching his consort like this, sated and happy and willing to be with him. But then, a life with Loki was more than enough for him, no matter what it entailed. Thor smiled, looking down at the brunette, flustered still with a faint smile curving his kiss bruised lips, and fingers curling into the rumpled sheets. This was what he wanted, and would have for all his days. Perfection really had no truer state.


End file.
